Fallen
by sardonic squids
Summary: Angels, when they fall, they want man not to remember their way of demise but of the way that they fell. -DISCONTINUED


_notes: dedicated to Eel Nivek seeing as he is the most awesome writer for Lightis__  
><em>_notes2: like, for serious, he's pretty amazing__  
><em>_notes3: go check out his account later, all three fics of his are dripping with loveliness~_

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><p>MOVING ON!<p>

I decided I was going to write a Lightis! fic seeing as this is one of my most favorite pairings of all time and the fact that I always wanted to try my hand at one of these.

I think it's a good thing.

Anyways, enjoy.

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><p><strong>ღ<strong>**ღ****ღ**

**FALLEN**

**ღ****ღ****ღ**

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><p>a lightis alternate universe fanfiction<p>

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><p>PROLOGUE<p>

_Eden they want_

_Nirvana they need_  
><em>Forgive thy who Sin<em>  
><em>Thou who mingle and swim<em>  
><em>in the black liquor of Satan<em>  
><em>Shall burn and destruct<em>  
><em>Retribution and Redemption<em>  
><em>Dealt by thy most holy disciples<em>  
><em>Of thy Goddess Etro<em>

_Kelna Of Don'A-12:10-Retribution and Redemption_

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><p><strong>FALLEN<strong>

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><p>Murderers.<p>

Abusers.

Traitors, Liars, and Swindlers.

Thieves and Infidels.

Mortals dripping in the devils' drink called:

Sin.

Noctis was familiar with them all. He was The First among the Seraphim, the one who commands Retribution and Redemption.

For eons, he had punished countless sinners and rule-breakers.

He had killed, impaled, and tortured with no mercy; pleas were nothing but passing wind in his ear. An endless torrent of passing words that had no meaning or depth to them.

And for millenniums, Noctis had forgiven, saved, and given mercy to those who had deserved it.

Those who had made far less few sins then those of their brethren in their past mortal lives had been granted amnesty and given the chance to become angels of their own rights, albeit angels of the lowest rank before slaves and prisoners of war. Those who had refused were merely passed to the Underworld to drink from the River Lethe and be reborn anew as another mortal.

Noctis had the gifts to see through lies and foresee the fate of a tarnished soul. There were no guidelines for him to follow with the punishments; he always knew instantly what had to be done, when it had to been, and how it had to be done.

That all changed.

It was during a parade to celebrate the king's newborn daughter, a holy child who would be raised in the arts of orthodox womanhood and trained in the secret language of Etna, a type of Woman Scripture kept alive in the blood of female royalty.

Like all kings', they needed their bodyguards and knights to protect them from any possible harm even among fellow citizens and kin. To bestow righteous titles of the highest degree in knighthood onto the holy children of God.

Standing next to the King with shimmering pink hair tumbling out of her engraved iron helmet, her large two wings symbolizing her status among the hierarchy was quite high as a startling dark red blossomed where it came out of her shoulder blades and the most pure of white at the very tip.

She was adorned in a ceremonial tunic which wrapped around her small, swan-like neck, crisscrossing in the front and revealing the bare sides of her slim, milky-white tummy, while a diamond shape cut out stylishly in the middle of the dainty fabric boasted an athletic abdomen, and a metal cross pierced her belly button. Sporadic pieces of fancy armor encased parts of her arms, slips and smoothly bent rings encircled the slim limbs, and completely covering the top part of her shoulder was a bulging half sphere that was hollowed out and imprinted with the king's own seal of arms.

From her hipbone down, everything was covered except for the twin slits on both sides of the white chiton. Leather sandals encased her feet, looping and ringing across her shapely legs and twirling into swirls as it barely scrapped the tops of her ankles.

Then she was gone, having been pulled away by a mere messenger boy and transferring her burdens of protection to a separate soldier.

Noctis shook his head, ruffling the unruly mane of raven blue and silvery tones glimmering in the golden sunlight.

The left hand woman of His Majesty's was years younger than himself. As The First of the Seraphim, he was centuries, millenniums, maybe even _eons_older than the woman herself, who was only about a few centuries old if he hypothesized correctly.

However, as she was leaving she looked behind herself and Noctis caught her eyes.

_Sapphires, _He thought, before ridding himself of the thought.

He looked again and was shocked to see a disturbingly unforeseen emotion.

The woman's cerulean eyes were clouded with naked longing and curling desire as she stared at him, his mind having already filled him in on all sorts of punishments, but none of them fit her quite right. This couldn't be a coincidence, since there were no life or civilians around him in a ten foot radius.

Thus, he did the only thing that seemed reasonable to him at that time.

Noctis rejected her.

The dark-haired man glared at her and narrowed his eyes, solidifying the depth of his glare and leaving no room for argument or confusion.

_What you're feeling is wrong. Look away this instant. Now._

He saw her mask of pseudo cool indifference crumble and tears prickle the outermost sides of her eyes before the façade returned to her face and see her eyes harden into diamonds' before looking away. Her gait a long, aggressive stride towards the imperial palace.

The gait of a rejected woman.

A sense of culpability and shame filled him before fleeting away the next mere second.

She was just a measly woman, a powerful and beautiful woman, but a woman nonetheless.

Noctis turned on his heel, placing a hard, steep pace leading back to the torture chambers located in the Secular Towers. He stepped past the crowd of people cheering for the parade, children hefted onto their fathers' shoulders or running around squealing as they chased each other across the plaza and around the large, lofty fountain that had twin marble nymphs sprouting crystalline water from their jars encased in slim limbs.

Past the parade that continued down the lane and festivities. The king who had long since passed this section of the city and proceeding down the avenue, flaunting himself to the people and kissing babies on their foreheads. Through the rounding corners, sharp curves, and reclusive tunnels. All until he reached the Secular Towers.

The Secular Towers were a trio of spiraling towers that had the shortest one merely grazing the skies and space above, and with the middle highest looming above it by only a mere few miles.

None of them, however, compared to the highest tower of them all, transcending and outclassing the set next to it by large magnitudes.

Noctis glanced up at the Secular Towers, he remembered his teachings from the Goddess Etro herself and he lost himself in the memories and reminisced memoirs of eons long ago when there was only the Underworld and no Eden yet.

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><p>"<em>Noctis, listen to me." The boy of only five summers looked at the pale woman encased in billowing white robes before him. Then, he saw that she was beckoning him forward so forward he went.<em>

"_Alright, now then, the lesson can begin. Do you know what those towers are?" Noctis shook his unruly mane of ebony and silver tints, bowing his childish face as flushing embarrassment and shame filled him._

_Etro looked at him and her pale, bloodless lips lifted into the ghost of a smile. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. Now look up and at the horizon." So he did, even though his face was still a dusty red across his cheeks and past the bridge of his nose._

_They stared at the Secular Towers again and the Goddess began her lesson, "Listen, because I will not repeat this again. These buildings are called the Secular Towers, and have been around for centuries. Now then, they were made of the bones of harpies and abyss feeders and constructed by the—"She was interrupted as a slightly shrill voice intercepted her own, "—first Cherubim's granddaughter, Sister Nora. Right?"_

_She nodded, "That is correct. Sister Nora had constructed the towers with her twin rapiers. By cutting the bones and then using witch fire to mold them together, the Secular Towers were created."_

_When Etro saw Noctis glance admiringly at the trio of towers, she felt obliged to ask him this, "Do you know each towers' name and purpose, Noctis?"_

_The boy looked at her excitedly and replied, "Do you know, Goddess Etro?"_

_The pale goddess lightly chuckled, "Of course, who do you take me for?" Noctis crossed his arms at the teasing but let her continue __nonetheless. She stretched a knobby, bloodless finger towards the shortest tower, "That tower is called Xuízo; Galician for 'Judgment', Xuízo weighs the soul of the prosecuted, before sending it either to Redención, or Retribución for amnesty or torture."_

_Noctis listened with earnest ears, "What about the other two towers?"_

_Continuing, she started with the next pure white building, "Redención is the second tower, meaning Redemption in Galician; it does exactly what it states. Redención grants forgiveness or salvation to those who have done few sins in their mortal life spans."_

"_Lastly is Retribución, meaning Retribution in Galician as well, it gives no emancipation to those charged of treading in the Devils' pool." Etro sighed, white lips parting, "Corporeal beings are so insignificant. Reduced to only a mere century, they wish to grasp as much greed and pleasure in their superficial lives as possible. Even going so far as to accept Satan's' more than iniquitous deals. Tsk." She scorned. _

_Noctis nodded, he had seen the humans rampage along Mother Nature's land and almost shrunk back in revulsion. The goddess went on, "While Retribución deals out punishments, it also has the power to exterminate souls altogether." The young boy's eyes widened, "While the sacred amendments decree that the destruction of souls are prohibited, the Seraphim that will soon lead Retribución have the right to annihilate any soul if they see fit. They are the winged bringers of justice and their word will trump over every law if they see adequate."_

_Etro took a shallow breath, "The Seraphim are much like me, having the ability to triumph over any decree and or amendment. The power to rival the Cherubim's own judgment if they were to ever do such a thing. Imagine if they were to ever to convert to the Devils side, such power would only serve to destroy the world and create catalysts all across the mortal world. Seraphim, invincible weapons of war and bringers of righteous justice."_

_She turned to look him in the eyes, dead eyes glancing into his own soul._

"_Answer me this boy, are the Seraphim the catalysts for our triumph over Hell, or are they the ones that will wage war against us and damn every last one of us?"_

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><p>Noctis snapped out of his trip down memory lane to see that his own feet had unconsciously brought him closer to the sacred towers.<p>

Looking up, he spread his six flamboyant wings, and jumped.

They flapped lazily up and down as he hovered higher and higher into the only entrance into _Retribución, _a lone window situated next to the first row of statues situated into hollows made in the towers themselves.

He was reminded suddenly of the left hand woman of the king, who was she anyways?

Leaping in, he landed gracefully onto the stark white flooring, cages were lined up against the walls, no bars or doors separated the prisoner from sweet escape. Magnetic fields provided protection and encasement, no lock or bar to pick open.

He randomly glanced in one of the prisons and saw a child with geometric tattoos running up her slender arms; she was quivering from whatever illusion the Seraphim had trapped her in. Her fingers scrapped against her skin, and tiny balls of blood swam up before hardening into a musty red crust.

All of a sudden, she screamed, lungs blasting themselves at maximum volume and the girl kept screaming and screeching as her back arched off the ground, toes curling and dirty nails biting sharply into her plaster white skin.

Noctis looked away nonchalantly, why should he care when he had seen far worse?

Marching down the hallway while supervising guards stayed at their posts waiting to see if any of the prisoners tried to escape. They glanced at him curiously before bowing to the First of The Seraphim when they recognized his stature and position.

He smirked, arrogant ego rising up again to dominate his personality.

Going up a flight of levitating stairs, Noctis encountered a whole new level of the looming tower, prisoners here were always silent, all their eyes stitched closed while their ears, fingers, and toes were all cut off. Mouths were only semi-stitched together, enough to let them to part open their lips but anymore than that, the magic induced stitches would clamp and tighten in their mouth, fibers forcefully closing the victims' own lips, all the while causing blood to well up and drip down.

The second level of _Retribución _was always more violent than the first but there were ten levels in all in _Retribución, _each flight of stairs to the next floor more worst and revolting than the other.

His boots click-clacked on the glass floors, drawing him into a recollection of memories that welled up again.

As his legs carried him through each floor faithfully each time, he was ready to call up his multiple lances, swords and weapons as he bumped into a foreign object.

The aforementioned object in respect merely skittered back and drew a shotgun from out of seemingly nowhere. Blonde hair combed messily and blue eyes stared back, gun concentrated on Noctis who was glaring straight back, coal eyes hard and blank.

Prompto blinked, blue eyes clearing in recognition, "Noctis! Whatcha doin' scaring me like that?"

Noctis himself just looked at him before stepping out his fighting stance, spine standing erect before he finally spoke.

"Yeah, it's all my fault, right? Now who was the one that wasn't aware of his surroundings?" He snorted, even though he was being much at fault as well.

The blonde-haired man pouted cutely for a mere second before letting his shotgun disappear from sight and swinging his left arm around the First Seraphim's neck, mouth in a large grin and eyes twinkling in a mischievous glint.

Noctis let out an indignant _oof!_ As the more muscular man ringed his arm around his solar plexus, both arms going up to grab them and trying to pry them off but to no avail.

"You two need a room?" A baritone voice rang out along the acoustically perfect hallway before heavy footsteps planted themselves down across the glossy floor.

Noctis let his lips draw into a rare grin.

"What the hell's this, mate? A gathering with no one telling me? That hurts." Another voice rang out, although this time, it had a teasing tone underlining it while the other one was only pure seriousness.

He heard Prompto yell out, "Hell yeah! Gladiolus, come here and help me wrestle Noctis down, he's getting harder to wrangle down every damn time now."

Noctis growled, a subtle warning which clearly passed straight over Prompto's head before he threw the younger man down.

"Ow—shit man, that actually hurt!" The blonde exclaimed, hands reaching up and cupping his sore head.

Gladiolus barked a laugh while Ignis only smirked and pushed his glasses up.

"Assholes." Prompto muttered and Noctis smiled.

"Idiot."

"Dumbass."

"True dat'."

Life was good.

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><p>Decades passed and Noctis only caught sporadic glimpses of the pink haired woman from time to time.<p>

Lightning Farron, he learned her name from eavesdropping on a couple of cherubs gossiping and subtly listening in on the king's appraisement of her.

She was a good companion in battle, and Noctis had reluctantly admitted that her skills nearly rivaled his own in the constant war against the underworld, also known as Hell.

Highly intelligent, her talents and dexterity in strategizing had every general going to her with curious want, she carried out perfect missions and treated her peers with equal respect and dignity guaranteed her stay in the upper ranks of the military. However, her high position in the court and having the king's favor at the same time also left her at the mercy of the more corrupt angels in the court and city.

Nonetheless, his perceptive abilities as one of the Seraphim left him noticing every single detail.

Centuries passed now, and she grew stronger and more efficient through hard battles, as he grew to respect her as a trusted comrade. Though she seemed oblivious to his changed perception and continued avoiding direct contact with him.

He was annoyed by her ignorance. He did not like it when she dropped her gaze when he was bluntly looking at her. He especially did not like it when she intentionally talked to another when he was in the room. But somehow, his annoyance was slightly appeased by glimpses of her true feelings during years of bloody battles and near-death situations.

He knew that Lightning still longed for him and after long battles in the war field, Noctis could see her true colors and thick, raw emotions.

One day, on a way to a meeting with the king and advisors, he was stopped by the sound of a laughter that sounded a bit like wind bells tinkling against each other.

So he veered off the cobbled path and headed towards the thick foliage. Noctis passed through green, soft branches and brushed away tall plants that clung to him. Soon, he arrived to the place where he thought he heard the mirth from.

The sight that hit his eyes, however , left him gasping for breath.

Lightning was standing in a small clear pond, pink hair flung over to the side and backside clearly revealed to him. Scars were riddled all over her back, no doubt results from the war against the underworld and its revolting minions.

He then heard the chatter of another female and crouched down low as soon as a dark haired woman stepped into view.

"I'm sure Hope would love to see you like this, don'tcha think, Lightning?" She scoffed, and ignored her while the other woman smirked and planted her hands on her hips.

So Noctis kept looking, enraptured by her body and he felt his own body reacting to the attracting female in front of him, only a mere few yards away from where he stood.

Lightning smiled, and gave a soft inhale as she dipped down lower into the shallow pool of water.

And he realized something.

Noctis took one look at her mirthful smile and he was unprepared for the waves of extreme jealously that left him shaking in fury.

The fact that he had never seen her smile before and this 'Hope' and tanned female had probably it left him digging his nails into his palms.

Irony struck him with retribution, and he found himself smiling. Somehow, he did not know how, she had succeeded pervading his frozen heart. Her smiles, her laughs, and her tears, he wanted them all for himself.

And only for himself.

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><p>AN: Continue? ;)


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